


details

by Fictropes



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Wedding Planning, they're in LOVE your honour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-18 15:09:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28620093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fictropes/pseuds/Fictropes
Summary: And it was the right time, the right place.
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 18
Kudos: 115





	details

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ahappyphil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahappyphil/gifts).



> KEELIN <3 lub u.

They’ve spoken about marriage before, in a way that’s more abstract than anything else. Mentioned it off hand in videos, Phil’s whole speech about how it’s a piece of paper. One night Dan had gotten a bit too interested in the tax side of it all, spent half an hour on a calculator working out how much it could save them—if one of them popped the question.

People used to ask. The people in their lives who knew about them. Phil’s mum was good at dropping little hints. Good at brandishing her own wedding ring whenever they were around, talking about how much it meant. It was never in a way that felt…pressuring. Just in a way that made Dan feel comfortable, knowing that Phil’s mother wanted them to stay together forever was—nice, really fucking nice. 

His own family were less vocal about it, because they knew less—because Dan hadn’t told anyone yet. But his gran probably knew, could probably tell, as the one person who seemed to understand him the most. So maybe when Phil went off to the bathroom, she asked when one of them was going to ask.

It was abstract until it was no longer abstract. Abstract until Japan, Phil dropping down onto one knee in the middle of a park populated by only deer. Abstract until Dan said _yes, obviously fucking yes._

And it was the right time, the right place. After Dan had told the world everything. Getting proposed to in Japan, beneath a million cherry blossom trees, with a clear idea in your head about who you want to be—what you want to do with your life—is pretty ideal. And it’s testament to how much Phil knows him, understands him.

So it’s no longer abstract, it’s no longer just this thought ping-ponging around Dan’s brain. It’s real, and it’s evident by the ring sitting pretty on his finger. 

-

“Heavy.” Phil groans, coming through the room with a box that looks—it’s big, too big for the chaos of the apartment.”

“Jesus, Phil. We’re supposed to be packing everything up, not adding more shit to the pile.” And they’re both incredibly sentimental people, cling onto anything that means _anything_. It’s why they barely have room to move, why they had to go out and buy more packing boxes—underestimated how much everything _meant._

They’ve been little goblins about it all, put stuff in binbags to throw away—to give to charity—and then pulled it back out ten minutes later. There are too many memories wrapped up in nearly everything they own, all their possessions can be linked back to something and they’re both reluctant to give that up.

So Phil puts a t-shirt into a bag, and Dan pulls it out when he’s not looking because it’d been the first t-shirt Dan remembers wearing of Phil’s. Remembers being wrapped up in it in a bed that didn’t yet belong to him, remembers it being taken off him with steady hands. How it got screwed up on the bedroom floor when Phil’s mouth latched onto his neck.

“This doesn't count cos it’s wedding-y stuff.”

Dan thought he’d be the one in charge, the one running around like a headless chicken trying to piece together little details—deciding a colour scheme. But Phil has surprised him, so invested that Dan knows what he’s doing at any given moment—browsing for suits, wondering if he can order a horse and carriage, trying to convince Dan that fucking _purple_ would be a good colour.

Phil throws himself into this how he throws himself into everything else, and Dan feels slightly ashamed he’d expected anything less. Phil’s always been invested in this, in _them._

“Is there a body in that? It’s fucking huge.” Dan stands up from his crouch, from where he’d been trying to cram too much into one poor box. He doesn’t want to admit defeat, to have to run out and buy yet another lot.

“Yeah, the body of my new husband.” Phil smiles, dumping the box on the kitchen side—a kitchen side that already has too much stuff on it. This was their room of today, trying to work through everything in the draws and cupboards. So far they’d thrown two things away, and that’s only because they were broken—because a whisk that doesn’t whisk is probably useless. 

“Is he sexy? Is he hot? Is he—a word you don’t understand?” Dan asks, all hyperactive, bouncing up on his toes because he really wants to know what Phil has done this time. Last time there was a box it was filled with confetti—Phil hadn't realised it was a prank box, apparently.

“Stop saying I don’t—i’m not a boomer, shutup.”

“Whatever you say.” Dan grins, leaves Phil so he can dig through a half packed box for a knife sharp enough to get through all the tape. He turns around to Phil trying to gnaw through it with his teeth, but what’s new there.

“Oi, move, you weirdo. One day you’re going to have to explain something you don’t wanna explain to a dentist.”

“Ok, Mr Scrape My Gums.” Phil’s definitely pouting, but Dan can’t see because he’s too busy butchering this box.

“Why is there so much fucking tape? Is there some stolen art in here? Is my wedding gift the Mona Lisa?” Dan hopes not, because he’s definitely just stabbed through something other than cardboard.

“If it was, you definitely just slashed it.” Phil elbows him out the way, holds his hand out for the knife that Dan really isn’t willing to give. It’s not that he thinks Phil is an idiot, he just thinks Phil’s a bit clumsy—it’s been eleven years, he’s seen things.

“Give.”

“Ugh, fine.”

Phil gets through it without anymore destruction, with a little _ta-da_ for his greatness.

“Is that— cake? Is that a literal whole box of cake?” Dan asks, staring in at all the sponge and buttercream.

“Yes!” Phil seems excited for it, but he would be because it’s a literal box of sugar. “I know we can’t go out now and do the whole trial run thing in places, but I found a company online that was doing it like this. Putting together a box to try, you taste them all at home and then email them your favourites.”

“Oh.” And now Dan’s a bit choked up, over how much Phil wants this to be perfect for them both. How much he’s trying despite everything happening. “That’s—really fucking great, actually.” 

“Yeeee!” Phil’s off already, pulling out the few plates they haven’t packed away and loading them up with every cake flavour to exist in the world—ever. “Ooohhh, this one is gay.”

It’s a rainbow sponge that could taste of literal shit, for all Dan knows, but he could look past that because it’s a literal gay cake. And who are they to refuse having that sat pride of place at their wedding reception.

“I sort of feel like that’s already the winner, but I still wanna try every single cake.”

“We’re obviously gonna try every single cake.” Phil carries a few plates to the living room, looking very wobbly. Dan’s quick to follow behind him, make sure he doesn’t drop them everywhere. He’s not below eating cake of the floor, but he’d rather not. 

“Or is that weirdly tacky? Should we go classy? Should we have a fancy cake? All buttercream roses, and crap.” Dan pretends to help, but all he does is move a couple plates around the coffee table for no reason. “Or… one of those naked cakes?”

“You want our cake to have less frosting on it? Divorce?”

Dan makes Phil budge over, because he has this awful habit to sitting right in the middle of the sofa. Taking up all the space. Dan used to think it was a ploy, that Phil just wanted him to sit in his lap. But he’s noticed he does it all the time now, even when guests are over, leaves no room for them to sit and everyones too polite to ask him to move—apart from Dan.

“Would you divorce me if I told you I wanted to be a sugar free household? Dan asks, finally managing to sit down beside Phil, on a sofa that will soon no longer belong to them.

Phil takes a second to think, to really ponder the meaning of love, of marriage, of the value of sugar VS Dan. “Yes.”

“Knew you were gonna say that.” Dan says with a smile, but he doesn’t take it to heart. He’s past that. Thinking Phil’s jokes have real meaning behind them, because he knows that they’re it for each other. That the fucking universe would explode if they even thought about leading separate lives.

-

“Ew.” Phil spits it out into his hand, now just has this pile of spongy wetness that he’s looking at Dan to take.

“No! Put it on the plate, you absolute troll.”

“It tasted like grass.”

Dan laughs, picks up the little menu that’d been in the box. “Matcha.”

“I hate it.”

“You would, it’s got like the lowest amount of sweets in it.” Dan takes the plate from Phil, moves over the little pile of gross so he can try what’s left. “Oh, it’s actually good.”

“Are you a cow? I think anyone who likes that it’s a cow cosplaying as a human.” Phil says, all indignant—up in arms.

“Sometimes I forget you have the literal tastebuds of a three year old.”

That’s probably why neither of them have ever attempted to cook beyond noodles. It’s easy, it’s something they’re both going to enjoy. Dan thought once about expanding his repertoire, but then Phil suggested instead of cooking that they should just order a pizza. Maybe 2021.

“I just think—chocolate is always good, and everyone will like it.”

“Maybe.” Dan smiles, and at this point he feels like his teeth are vibrating from all the frosting. “Is it weird that I thought i’d properly care about the details, but I don’t… really? Like it’s fun picking schemes, but I sort of only care about you being there. About the actual I do part.” 

Phil softens, puts the slice of—definitely something lemon—cake down on the coffee table. “I wasn’t sure if you were just busy with your book.”

“No, no.” Dan waves a hand in the air, isn’t even surprised when Phil catches it, places a kiss to the centre of his palm. “I started looking at decorations, then I just… my brain was like, as long as Phil is stood there waiting, I don’t think the flowers being a certain colour matters. I don’t want it to be big, Phil, I just want it to be us.”

“Soooo… I should cancel the confetti canon?”

“Oh, shutup.” Dan laughs. “You did not.”

Phil just shrugs, drops Dan’s hand in favour of shuffling up closer—pressing a kiss to his rosy patch. “I just wanted to pick up all the details you couldn’t because you were busy.”

“I’ve always got time for you, you know that.”

“I know.” Phil says, so certain. “I just like watching you work, bringing you tea, it’s kinda hot.”

“Got a kink for watching me… fuck, I forgot the word.”

“Productive?” Phil suggests.

“That’s the one.”

“I just like seeing you do something you enjoy, like, something you’re proud of.”

“Ew.” Dan wrinkles his nose. “Are we, like, in love love?”

“I think so?” Phil questions, even goes as far as tipping his head to the side—a whole goddamn actor. “Should they be our vows? Dan I love love you.”

“I was just gonna like do a dramatic reading of the first pinof.” Dan laughs when Phil pinches at his thigh, stops laughing when he has a lapful of dramatic man kissing the life out of him.

“No.”

“No? I thought that was like our origin story.”

“No, our origin story was your three am dms, and do you really want me to read them out?” Phil asks, tucking a curl behind Dan’s ear. They’re already getting too long again, but he daren’t ask Phil to cut it.

“Offt, no.” Dan’s hands come to settle on Phil’s hips, and they sit there like they always do, in a way that fits. In a way that means they were likely made for each other. “Give both our mothers a heart attack.”

“I think saying that much stuff about cock in church is illegal.”

“We’re not gonna be at a church, dingus.”

“I think saying that much stuff about cock is illegal, full stop.”

Dan laughs, shakes his head. “Alright, then we’re gonna have to think up different vows.”

“Can we eat cake first?” 

-

There’s fifteen in total, and somehow they get through them all. They don’t end up going for the rainbow cake, despite the appearance, it had somehow just tasted of literal air. And they’re paying out too much for it to not be the best goddamn cake anyone has ever eaten.

“So.” Phil starts, licking off the remnants of chocolate frosting from his fork. “This one?”

“Yeah, if you wanna fuck a cake then that’s probably a sign its’s a good cake.”

“Do you think you could?” Phil asks, fork clattering against the plate as he drops it down and lounges back to pop open the top button of his jeans.

Dan doesn’t even know why he’s wearing jeans indoors, something about the newest delivery guy for their area being sort of really hot.

“What? Fuck a cake? Probably? I mean, if it’s got… layers?” Dan suggests, but he’s not going too far down that train of thought.

“Hm.”

“Stop thinking about!”

“I’m not thinking about it!” Phil protests. “Alright, maybe just a bit. Like the logistics.”

“Am I going to find you cheating on me the night before our wedding with some chocolate sponge and a bit of icing?” Dan laughs, and he shouldn’t laugh because moving or doing anything right now is making him feel a little bit sick. He doesn't understand how the bake off judges do this every day, try twelve cakes at one and seem completely fine at the end of it.

“No, but I might eye up that special piece we keep in the freezer after.”

“Huh?”

  
  
“You know, when people like freeze a slice of their wedding cake for a special occasion?” Phil says, and it’s honestly surprising how much he seems to know about the subject.

“Er—yeah, but let’s not act like that'll stick around for long with you living in the house.” Dan points out, because he can see it being gone three hours later.

“I have some self-control.” Phil whines.

“Maybe.” Dan shrugs, giggles when Phil gives him those light little arm punches—something he’s watched back a million times in videos. “So, this one is the one?”

“Yeah.” Phil agrees. “Yeah, this one.”

**Author's Note:**

> as always, lemme know thoughts. <3


End file.
